It Always Ends The Same
by Ali.3Gsherlock
Summary: Through no fault of her own, Jean gets wrapped up in a dreamscape which she hopes as first is calm. But not all is as it seems, as past events (and futures) collide... Based on a review prompt: "Can you do another one, but maybe with more Jean? Like maybe she's in his dream, or he projects it to her and she's really worried." Great idea! Hope I've done it justice.


Night had fallen over the mansion, and for once every single person in the X-Mansion had fallen asleep. This included Jean Grey, who lay in her room very still as she descended into REM sleep.

As a telepath, sleep didn't really come that easily, and dreams were often flooded with the details from the minds of others. This time, however, was different; for once she hoped it might be calm and serene dreams which met her.

White as far as she could see, both the floor and as far as she could see to the horizon. She was wearing white sweatpants and a white long-sleeved cotton top, which she fiddled with the sleeves of as she waited for something to happen. Silence remained, and she decided to take a walk.

* * *

Just as she was becoming content that this was not only her dream, but a peaceful one at that, she saw a figure begin to appear on the horizon. Instinctively she knew who it was, and crouched down in a vague attempt to avoid being spotted by staying out of his eye line.

She shuffled forward towards the professor, and as the detail increased saw he was stood looking around, outwards and not too dissimilar to how Jean had behaved when she arrived. However, he didn't cease the action as Jean neared, but he didn't look confused at the situation either.

Jean stood up, and realised Charles couldn't see her – it crossed her mind that by being here she was unintentionally invading his thoughts, but she put this aside as she considered there must be a reason as to why Jean was able to access them so easily. She got closer to the professor, attempted to study his expression, and then reached out a hand to his face in an attempt to see more, when-

* * *

"GAH!" She saw it for a split second, until against her own will she had retracted her hand away from his face. Pain, terror, fear, broken across Charles' face had appeared in her vision for less than a second, just as long as she had held her hand up, fires and rubble the background to his image.

Now, with hand down and white environment resumed, Charles looked calm and studious, as he had when she walked over. But that emotion, so raw and uncomforted… it couldn't be forgotten.

She stood for a moment in front of him, collected her thoughts and then summoned the strength within herself to make contact again. In a feeble attempt to minimise the harm done to both of them, she took his hand this time, and again as soon as contact was made Charles began to scream.

* * *

Again, instantaneously the white light and surrounds disappeared, and were replaced with the red fuming skies she had already seen.

And again, piles of rubble and metal lay all around, some the size of a campfire, others perhaps three storeys high. And on fire.

There was no-one else in this vision, just Charles clearly petrified and herself. She looked down at her previously pristine garments and found them ripped and with singed holes, burnt black around the circumference.

Looking down at her arm that held Charles' hand, a deep cut bled rather vigorously, but she made no effort to slow the red liquid. Instead, she focused on Charles, Charles whose eyes had closed on the suffering, and whose hands tightened immeasurably around Jean's.

She cried his name to no avail, and took the free hand she really should have used to put pressure on her wound to grip Charles' right shoulder, turning round to stand in front of him. With each shout of his name, she shook him, and after two failed attempts he finally broke from his trance with one last cry.

* * *

Incomplete tears had formed in the corners of his eyes, which were turning bloodshot themselves as the creases on his forehead eased away. In opening his eyes Jean saw everything she had expected and so much more, so much hurt and pain and loss and sorrow. "Jean…" he mustered, and she rather uselessly realised he could see her now.

"I'm here." She said, slowly and slightly quieter than when she normally spoke. After giving Charles a moment to recover, she decided to help him by working their way out of wherever the hell it was they were. "Where are we?"

"… You shouldn't be here, you should go, I'm-"

"Don't lie to me, Professor. Please, I know it's not real."

"Oh but it is…" She waited for him to be ready to give his response.

* * *

"I see this sometimes – moments of an alternate future which have bled through. A future which happened, somewhere. And everywhere."

"What do you mean?"

"I know we… we did something. Not you," He clarifies, seeing Jean's confused expression, "but me, and Logan. And Hank, I think. We… changed something. I see it sometimes, in his mind – Logan's, that is. It's fuzzy, like I can't access all of it. Like it existed and then… ceased to. Two versions of a day, one as it is, and another… like white noise on a TV set.

"But I can make out the details. And this, is what it amounts to. So, I wonder, if we did something to change the future. When we worked together for the first time. But the trouble is, even if we did, it still comes to this! You know it, you saw it with Apocalypse, it doesn't matter what we do, or who we save, we always return to this, this… destruction. Be it humankind, mutant-kind, or both… or neither. It happens. "

And Jean sees, again, what it is on the poor Professor's mind. For the second time, she has an epiphany where everything becomes clear and she understands the pain, the longing.

Could you imagine being pretty much the sole accountable responsibility for a school full of people isolated from, sometimes persecuted by anyone deemed 'normal' by human society, and who through no fault of his own also ends up being the one who has to offer up his protect-ees when that society needs assistance?

* * *

"Why do you think you keep doing this?" Jean asked, thinking her way around the dilemma, and attempting to enlist the professor in his own guided discovery.

"What, trying to help in crises? People would die if I don't. Then again, people die when I do, so…"

"Stop right there. You do it to save the masses. The greater good. And, funny thing is, I think even if you didn't people would still try to escape from here to go and help. Because that's what you show them, the students here.

"You show them courage, hope, unity, strength… togetherness. Values that these students need, in order to survive anything, be it normal life in integrated society or… facing potential harm in front of an uncertain enemy.

"You don't just teach them to fight Charles, you teach them – you teach us – how to live right. So that even if this were to happen, we could work together. Help those in need, and help each other too. We might not be able to prevent this from happening, but you said it yourself, we stop it. Even if it means just a few days more before this happens."

The use of Charles' – the professor's first name was second nature, and Jean knew really that we wouldn't be offended or hurt in the slightest (shocked, maybe…), and while she talked her left hand moved down Charles' right arm to take his other hand.

The man in question stood slightly, taking in every word and with each one adding tons to the debt he would likely owe Jean. For he eventually eased up, and felt less like this was inevitable – or, if it was, that didn't mean he had to stop fighting.

* * *

Eventually, Charles begun to smile, small but sweetly, as Jean carried on speaking. "You said… Logan, was it?" Charles nodded. "That Logan could remember two versions of some dates. How far did they go into the future?"

"… A number of decades, maybe?" His face narrowed, as he was reminded of the torment and unsure about where Jean was going?

"And where do they start turning… bad?"

"They're already pretty horrible."

"So already your work has given us tens of years to live. That's lifetimes, Professor, people you've allowed to live a life because you helped when it was needed. That's more than anyone else could do. This… Logan guy clearly needed you, and you succeeded. Take that as a victory for now."

As she rounded off her talk, the sun broke out above one of the debris piles, and Jean looked towards it. Charles joined in too, a moment later, and saw seven figures in yellow and blue suits stride over the top so their figures broke the sunlight;

Erik, Raven, Hank, Logan, Alex, Peter, Kurt and Scott (or outlines that resembled them) seemed to shine themselves on the heap, and Charles almost squealed with excitement and glee, tears of another emotion forming and streaming down his cheeks.

"Jean, thank-"

"No need, Professor. Now, you're going to breathe deep, focus on this feeling, and calm your mind."

He closed his eyes and sighed, Jean squeezing his hands slightly to show both that she was still there and that she was going to continue.

"There's no need to worry, Charles – I'm here, we're all here for you. The sun's come up, professor, it's time to wake up-"

* * *

Abruptly, but not by any means in a violent manner, Jean woke up in her room, sunlight streaming in via a small crack past the incompletely drawn curtain.

She sat up and looked down at herself, having to check she no longer wore those tattered white garments. To her relief, her red t-shirt and checkered pyjama bottoms were exactly where they should be, and now all she had to do was check on the professor.

She headed down to his room to find it empty – he had taken the time to make his bed, and the chair in which he resided was nowhere to be seen. Jean wandered the halls of the mansion for a long while to the point where she wondered if she would ever find him; despite Charles having lived here for so long at two different points in his life, it wouldn't surprise her if even he got lost in the grounds.

After taking a minute to look out into the grounds from a high window and not seeing him outside, she continued to walk down the corridor she was on until she finally found him trundling along at a reasonably slow speed to be honest.

Charles felt a small nudge at the corner of his mind and didn't need to look around to see who it was; last night had made that touch quite familiar.

"Jean," he declared, as he slowly edged the chair round and leaned over his right shoulder to see her.

* * *

"How are you, professor?"

"I'm okay, thanks to you."

"As I said, no thanks required. I knew there had to be something wrong. What are you doing?"

"Checking on everyone. An event like that, despite the fact that it was imaginary, tends to heighten the nerves. And even when people will be up and getting registered soon."

"Can't you reach everyone from your bedroom?"

"Ha, it doesn't have the same… Going through the whole procedure makes me feel much more secure about the whole business."

"… Would you like some help?" Charles' subtle smile was enough of a 'yes' for Jean, and so they swept the rest of the school together. Then they returned to Charles' room and Jean assisted him in gathering his clothes for the day and getting him out of the chair so he could change on his bed.

Once she turned her back to him so she could get changed (he would possibly need help getting back into the chair, and so didn't want to leave him just yet), she took the opportunity to hopefully comfort Charles more: "You know, if you ever need me to be with you in a dream, all you have to do is ask for it again."

"What do you mean, again? It was hardly intentional the first time."

"Just, know that I'm here. Whenever you need me."

"… Thank you, Jean. I mean it. No-one else here…"

"Let's not dwell on it just now. Later, maybe." And so the two friends went about their day, in and out of classes, chatting about this and that when they got the chance.

* * *

There would be time for talk, and times where comfort was necessary. But for now, one was a student, the other a professor, and sometimes they were two heroes who worked together to save the world.


End file.
